


Favour

by nanuk_dain



Series: Impossible Relationships [3]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-19
Updated: 2011-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanuk_dain/pseuds/nanuk_dain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim accepts an unexpected offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favour

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Предложение](https://archiveofourown.org/works/331321) by [anapupa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anapupa/pseuds/anapupa)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Предложение](https://archiveofourown.org/works/331321) by [anapupa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anapupa/pseuds/anapupa)



  
[   
](http://pics.livejournal.com/nanuk_dain/pic/000be3gq)   


 

It was dark, men were milling around the Humvees and in the free areas inbetween, preparing food and sitting together in groups. Tim stood next to his Humvee and felt the familiar urge to get away for a moment, to have a bit of peace and _quiet_. Sometimes he just needed the distance, and now was one of those occasions. He was still angry that Trombley hadn't seen what he'd done, hadn't seen the light in those boys' eyes fade more with every minute that passed, hadn't heard their mothers crying. War would always remain a game for that stupid trigger-happy kid, and he'd never learn his lesson if he wasn't confronted with the consequences of his actions. Tim was convinced that in the long run, Brad hadn't done the kid a favour by sparing him the sight. And while Tim understood why Brad took the blame as the team leader who'd given the order, he didn't see why Trombley shouldn't have helped them carry the boys.

Tim looked around the Qalat Sukhar airfield, taking in the position of the men and the vehicles. He decided to turn towards the left where he knew there was a destroyed truck right at the boundaries camp. Its silhouette was illuminated ever so slightly, not quite light, not quite dark. It was all the privacy he would get.

While walking over towards the destroyed truck, Tim rotated his shoulders in an effort to relax his cramped muscles. It was a curse, really, and no amount of training had been able to keep the muscles in his back and his neck from cramping up. Tim sat down on the hood of the truck and closed his eyes, concentrating on the slow movements that usually helped at least a bit.

He heard silent footsteps approaching from the camp right before a familiar voice said, “I give a terrific massage, Doc.”

Tim turned his head towards the speaker and found Person standing next to the truck, a grin on his face.

“Sure, Person.” Tim replied, annoyed that his moment of peace had been disturbed. He couldn't help being slightly suspicious, because he had indeed noticed that Person had been watching him, and he wasn't entirely sure what the man was planning.

“Come on, Doc, trust me.” Tim heard a serious note in Person's voice, well hidden under the joking tone, but there nonetheless. “You'll feel better afterwards.”

Tim stared up at him with a frown. Person seemed to get nervous under his gaze and began to fidget subtly, and that was enough to convince Tim that Person was serious with his offer. He never got nervous or fidgeted when he was up to something.

“All right, Person.” Tim inclined his head. “Show me what you're capable of.”

Person's grin widened and he stretched his hands and fingers pointedly. “I'll make you forget your name, Doc. My hands are famous.”

Tim only snorted. “Talk, nothing but talk. I'll only believe it when I've experienced it.”

Person climbed onto the hood of the truck behind him and tugged on the back of Tim's flak jacket. “Take that off, or all my efforts won't change a thing.”

“What, your famous hands aren't strong enough to get through a flak jacket?” Tim teased with a smirk while loosening the straps. “I'm disappointed, Person.”

“Wait until you feel the power of my magical hands, Doc.” Person just replied and his voice had adapted a bragging tone. “You'll be a true believer afterwards.”

Tim just snorted again and set his flak jacket down on the ground next to his right foot. “I don't feel a thing yet.”

“Tsk tsk tsk.” Person chided him. “Don't be so impatient, Doc. I thought corpsmen were supposed to be all calm and laid-back.”

“Rumours, Person, rumours.”

Only a moment later, Tim felt hands settle on his shoulders. They tried to dig in, but his uniform jacket bunched up under the pressure and Person made an unhappy noise and straightened the fabric. He found a different angle for his hands and pressed down, but it only happened again, and this time Person huffed in frustration.

“Want me to take off my jacket as well?” Tim asked with a teasing note to his voice.

“It would help. I can't work my magic like that.” Tim felt Person shrug behind him through the hands that still lay on his shoulders. “But it's your choice, Doc. I guess you know a thing or two about massages, so you _probably_ know that multiple layers of clothes aren't exactly beneficial.”

“All right.” Tim hesitated only for a second before he opened his uniform jacket and pushed it off his shoulders to reveal the t-shirt underneath. He felt Person's hands on his neck only a moment later, and this time his grip was strong and sure, his fingers digging in Tim's sore muscles with intent. It took Tim by surprise, the pain-pleasure shooting through his back and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Oh God!” Tim couldn't have held back the groan if his life had depended on it.

“Magic.” Person remarked with a chuckle. “Told you so.”

Tim thought he sounded smug, but his hands never faltered, never lost their strength or their sure aim for Tim's sorest spots. After only a few minutes, Tim felt as if his whole back was on fire, from his neck to the small of his back, but it was a good fire, relaxing his cramped muscles for the first time in ages. His eyes had drifted closed and he pressed back into Person's hands almost unconsciously, lost in the sensation and the comfortable silence.

Only then did he realise that Person didn't seem to have any problems being quiet when he was around Tim, and the silence didn't feel awkward at all. It was comfortable in a way Tim rarely experienced and it made him smile, and he allowed himself to simply enjoy the admittedly fantastic massage he was given. He wasn't used to it, but for once, he let somebody else take care of _him_. It felt good, and he decided to enjoy it as long as it lasted and to recharge his batteries while he could. You never knew when the opportunity would come again.

“Where did you learn that?” Tim asked after a while, and he couldn't have said if it had been minutes or hours.

Person was quiet, working on Tim's left shoulder blade, and when he finally replied, Tim could hear the smile in his voice. “My mom has a really bad back. I've given her more massages than I can count.”

He fell silent again, his hands finding the right spots without any trouble, pressing in with the perfect amount of strength, the pressure of his fingers making Tim relax and at the same time causing goosebumps to spread all over his body. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the soothing touch, never bothering to raise his head or open his eyes. When Person spoke again, his voice was low and Tim heard the smile again. “Her sore spots are almost identical with yours. That makes it even easier.”

As if to prove his point, his thumbs dug into the top Tim's shoulders, right where he always felt the sting when he'd been carrying his pack for too long. Tim groaned involuntarily, and Person chuckled.

“You're enjoying that, aren't you?” Tim growled, but he didn't move away from the hands on his shoulders.

“Of course I am, Doc.” Person replied and the smirk was audible in his voice. “I don't think any of the men ever managed to get you to make those sounds.”

Tim snorted. “Most certainly not.”

“Well, _I_ managed.” Person's grin was obvious, although Tim couldn't see his face. “I told you my hands are magical.”

A moment later, the quality of Person's touch changed, his hands resting flat on Tim's neck, slowly passing from his head over his shoulders and his arms down to his fingertips in one long, soothing movement. He repeated the touch several times, working his way over to Tim's back, gently stroking out the last kinks, easing off the tension and ending the massage like a trained physical therapist would.

“Feel any better?” Person asked, his voice even lower. His hands trailed down Tim's back, almost a caress, before they fell away. Tim's eyes were still closed and he soaked up every moment of contact. He couldn't even remember the last time anybody had touched him like that, had caused goosebumps all over his body just by passing their hands over his arms and his back. He wasn't sure he liked that thought coming up in connection with _Person_ giving him a massage, but there was no denying his body's reaction. When Person got up and jumped off the hood of the truck to the ground, Tim opened his eyes and straightened up, an uneasy feeling in his stomach that he shoved aside resolutely. He'd been alone for way too long.

“A lot better, actually.” Tim replied and rotated his shoulders. He couldn't feel any aches other than some bruises where Person had dug in extra hard. He looked up, one corner of his mouth raised in a half-smirk. “Thank you, Person.”

“You're welcome, Doc.” Person smiled – not smirked or grinned, no, _smiled_ – and held out Tim's jacket. Tim felt something in his stomach shift in a way he hadn't experienced in years, and he knew instantly that he was in trouble. He accepted the jacket and pulled it on, just to have a reason to look away.

“I've got to get back to the boys.” Person said after a moment and turned to leave.

He had already taken a few steps before Tim looked up. “Person.”

Person turned back, an expression on his face that was somewhere between guarded and surprised. “Yeah?”

“You were right.” Tim said with a smirk and wondered _what the hell_ he was doing. “Your hands _are_ magical.”

Person gave a startled laugh, a huge grin spreading over his face, replacing the guarded expression. “I'm always right, Doc. Remember that the next time I offer to do you a favour.”

Tim just chuckled. When Person turned and walked off towards the Humvees, Tim thought he saw a spring to his gait. He stared after him, his grin slowly transforming into a frown, and only a few minutes after Person had left, Tim decided to get back to his own team. Maybe it was better if tonight, he _didn't_ have the privacy to think about things he definitely shouldn't spend even one minute thinking about. Not when they concerned somebody in the forces. _Never_ when they concerned a Marine. It was against the rules he'd set up a long time ago.

When he got up and put his flak jacket back on, he felt it press against a bruise that Person had left on his right shoulder. Tim raised his hand and gently pressed on the bruise to establish its size. He knew he would feel it for days, and he was slightly alarmed to discover that he didn't mind at all.

Oh yes, he was in _serious_ trouble.


End file.
